


Coffee

by funGhoulery



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Muggle, Alternate Universe - Non-Magical, M/M, i mean who even knows its literally just sirius being really really gay for remus im sorry, literally just pining tbh, too many coffee comparisons tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-12
Updated: 2015-01-12
Packaged: 2018-03-06 19:43:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3146312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/funGhoulery/pseuds/funGhoulery
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sirius takes notice of the cute boy who sits several tables down from him every day. He also takes notice of his coffee orders.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Coffee

**Author's Note:**

> this isnt even in charater honestly
> 
> edit: its future me and i hate this fic but im glad other people still like it

            The reason he never spoke to the only other occupant of the small coffee shop at seven pm was the hard-set rules of social convention. Much in the same way one would leave a self-checkout station, a desk, or a public urinal between oneself and a stranger, Sirius always left three tables between them. Five, really. They both sat at opposite ends of their respective tables, like on opposite ends of the world.

            He noticed the way he always ordered sweet coffees – drinks with whipped cream with as much volume as the boy’s hair when he ran his hand through it, peppermint as potent as his smile, pumpkin mocha the same color as his messenger bag, or the burnt marshmallow lattes he ordered on Friday nights, as sticky and sweet as Sirius’ insides when the boy chuckled over his laptop or novel or whoever was with him.

            That was another thing – he always appeared to be doing something of relative importance. He was always typing furiously or annotating worn paperbacks. On days when he was just sketching (“just” being an understatement – the boy was downright beautiful when he drew) and appeared to be doing nothing of dire importance, Sirius could almost work up the courage to “happen” to trip near his table or compliment today’s jumper. Of course, just as he willed his legs to move, a girl with dark red hair and a purple scarf, a stout boy with a mousey sort of face, or _someone_ would walk in and ruin everything. There was no way he would interrupt him when he had company.

            But it wasn’t fear. It was social convention. That’s why Sirius didn’t go up and talk to the boy, even though he could have sworn he saw him looking yesterday. It wasn’t like the boy made him nervous with his long fingers and the way he held his coffee with three fingers, sticking his index and pinky fingers out into the wind. It wasn’t like his specific kind of raccoon eyes – the gradient kind that could be from lack of sleep or genetic, and you’d have to ask to find out – made Sirius weak-kneed.

            When he was younger – ages twelve and thirteen, perhaps – he’d been granted a reputation for being a rather reckless boy, often so overcome with his own brilliant plans that he failed to consider the potential consequences of his actions, be they good or bad. Looking back on the Friday he first made contact, he figured he’d been possessed by his thirteen year old self. It had been very schoolboy of him, when he thought about it. He’d sent him a coffee.

            He’d arrived in the shop just after six thirty and when ordering his usual drink (black, one scoop of cream) he asked the barista if she could do him a favor.

“Do you know the boy who comes in here every night around seven?”

The barista, a short, red haired woman with rosy cheeks and a warm demeanor named Molly, nodded.

“Remus?” She asked. “Of course, he tutors my little cousin’s every so often. He’s quite the charming fellow.”

“Would you mind terribly,” he said nervously. “If I sent him a coffee? He always orders those marshmallow lattes on Friday nights.”

            She smiled and her eyes crinkled. Of course she wouldn’t mind, dear. In fact, she’d be happy to.

            This was fine. He was fine. He’d done a nice, lovely thing for a stranger. He wasn’t freaking out at all. He sipped his coffee and flipped open his biology textbook. He might as well get some work done.

            Sirius had gone through one and a half coffees by a quarter past seven when he heard the bell above the door chime. He took a large gulp of still-hot coffee and fought the urge to turn and look at who he was sure was Remus.

            He looked up. The barista winked at him. He took another gulp of coffee.

            He watched, feeling a nervousness he’d never felt before well up inside him. Had he remembered to tell Molly not to tell Remus the drink was from him? Had he gotten the order right? Were they sure they were speaking about the same person?

            Remus was now speaking to Molly. She gestured to his table, and he, looking mildly surprised and a little unsure, sat down. Once he was settled in his chair, he looked directly at Sirius. Right in the eye. Sirius felt his mouth go dry.

            Molly, with a large, motherly grin set upon her face, made her way to Remus’ table with a steaming mug. On her way back to the counter, she winked at Sirius again. He buried his face in his textbook.

            If his face had not been burning and he had had the good sense to look up and perhaps _smile_ at Remus, here is what he would have seen:

            Remus, taking a small sip, realizing it was his usual order, smiling to himself, taking a larger sip. He would have seen Remus blushing lightly, a pink color like a sunset over his cheekbones. He would have seen Remus looking around the room in an effort to find something to occupy his mind other than his apparent secret admirer. He may even have seen Remus standing with trepidation to walk over and confront him.

            He didn’t look up until he felt somebody sit down across from him.

“I don’t want to seem forward,” said Remus. “It’s just that you are quite literally the only other person regularly in the shop at this time of night, and therefore the only person who might know my Friday coffee order.”

            Sirius melted.

            Up close, he was gorgeous. Tan skin and light hair mixed together in an indescribable way. His eyelashes looked like rays of sun against his skin. His eyes a light brown, the same sweet color as the caramel drinks he ordered so often. His voice like vanilla and his movements laced with sugar, Sirius wondered if perhaps Remus had drunk so many sweet coffees in his lifetime that they’d become a part of him.

“I suppose it was pretty obvious,” he said. “But I figured we might as well take this relationship to the next level.”

“The next level?” Remus quirked one eyebrow, and Sirius was impressed. He could never get the hang of single-brow communication.

“Oh yeah,” he continued, hoping he didn’t sound quite as arrogant to Remus as he sounded to himself. “I figure we might as well finish up with casual glances and whatnot and actually start talking to each other.”

“We could start with your coffee order. Have you ever had a decent drink in your life?”

“Have you?” countered Sirius.

Remus smiled with the corner of his mouth. Sirius glanced at it, making a note of it for later. He was going to mark that corner as his territory someday.

“I’ll have you know, black coffee tastes like mud, and a bit of sugar now and again wouldn’t kill you.”

“No,” said Sirius, chuckling to himself. “I don’t suppose it would.”

**Author's Note:**

> heres a bit i didnt know if i should put in at the end or not:
> 
> That night, after both of them had gone their separate ways, Sirius grinned at the neat handwriting on a napkin that showed the phone number of a one Remus Lupin.  
> He couldn’t help himself. He pulled out his phone and dialed the only person he’d dare call with such important news.  
> “Do you know what time it is?” asked a rather irritated James.  
> “Hello,” he said cheerfully. “Just wanted to let you know, the world’s just gone and ended.”  
> “Has it?”  
> “Oh yes,” he said solemnly. “In the most magnificent way.”  
> “Has this anything to do with that coffee bloke you’ve been stalking?”  
> “Piss off.”
> 
> please leave a comment!!


End file.
